It Was a Dark and Stormy Night

Geniuses are like thunderstorms. They go against the wind, terrify people, cleanse the air. ─ Soren Kierkegaard

For the past few nights we’ve been flashed, crashed, and poured upon. That crack of thunder that wakes me from a deep sleep is unsettling. I’m not one for fierce rainstorms–especially when there’s lots of lightning.

When my daughter was small, she felt the same way. After the first loud boom, she would appear in our bedroom, clutching her stuffed Jenny doll with a look of fear in her eyes. We’d make a little bed for her on the floor next to us and tuck her in tightly. Then we’d watch the lightning light up the room and listen to the thunder until it finally faded away. For years, that was our thunderstorm ritual. Then one stormy night she didn’t appear. I found her sleeping soundly in her room, holding her Jenny doll. I went back to our bedroom where my husband was snoring, and I was left to watch the lightning and wait for the thunder to disappear all by myself.

Young and old sometimes need reassurance during noisy thunderstorms. I have two books I like to share when this happens. One is The Storm Book in which a boy and his mother talk about the storm as it passes over country, city, and seashore. At the end, there is a delightful surprise. It’s a Caldecott Honor book written by Charlotte Zolotow and illustrated by Margaret Bloy Graham. The other book is Thunder Cake written and illustrated by Patricia Polacco. In this story, Grandma helps her granddaughter conquer her fear of the coming storm by having her gather ingredients to bake a cake.

My daughter is no longer afraid of thunderstorms. In fact, she loves them. When I asked her why, she said, “You feel the force of nature. It’s the anticipation and excitement of what that storm will bring. It’s always different…”

The next time we have one of those fierce thunderstorms I’m calling her to tuck me in tightly and stay with me until the thunder fades away.